


circle of life (we find our place)

by potahtopotato



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Harry Potter Next Generation, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 07:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13453260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potahtopotato/pseuds/potahtopotato
Summary: This author doesn't believe in the Cursed Child, but I might steal some characterization from there.Four oneshots that take place during Albus Severus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, and Rose Granger-Weasley's first year at Hogwarts. In which Harry Potter is a decent human being, Rose Granger-Weasley isn't horrible, and 11-year old kids have trouble communicating.





	1. Chapter 1

Scorpius is nervous. He doesn't like to admit it, but he's fairly certain that he's not doing a very good job of hiding his feelings anyway. It's one of the Things He Has To Work On If He Wants To Be Successful In Slytherin, at least according to his father. His mother doesn't say anything whenever Draco goes on one of these rants, but she seems to understand that an overexpressive face is just as good of a mask as a blank one.

Scorpius wonders if his friends will understand. He wonders if he'll make any friends. He wonders if he's destined to spend every train ride to Hogwarts sitting by himself in a compartment meant for six and pretending to read a brand-new copy of  _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_.

Three people have already opened the door to the carriage, taken a good look at him, and closed it again, so when a boy and a girl around his age come in, slamming the door behind them, Scorpius doesn't look up from his book. They'll leave soon enough.

The red-headed girl, having put her luggage away faster than the boy, plops down directly in front of Scorpius, forcing him to catch her eye.

"I'm Rose Granger-Weasley," she says, "and you're Scorpius Malfoy. My dad said not to talk to you, so I assume that we have to be friends."

"Pardon?" Scorpius asks. Granger-Weasley... that means her parents are Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, who basically saved the entire wizarding world. And that means that the messy-haired boy, who is still struggling to heave his suitcase onto the storage space above the seats, must be Albus Potter, the younger son of  _the_  Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived himself.

"We're going to be friends," Rose repeats, shaking Scorpius our of his thoughts. "Although you should know that Mum said that if you call me, or anyone else actually, the m-word, I have her full permission to slug you, but she also said not to tell Dad she that said that because she's sure that you won't be at all like your father and miracles have happened but just in case they don't she trusts my judgement." Rose takes a breath. "Also, pleased to meet you."

Scorpius stares at her, struggling to decide which part of that speech he should respond to. "I... I'm not going to call you the m-word," he finally says.

The boy— Albus Potter— has at last finished with his luggage and sat down next to his cousin, and he now laughs. "She has that effect on people."

"What effect?" Rose turns the full force of her gaze— and mouth— on Albus, and Scorpius tries to collect his thoughts as the two bicker.

They seem nice, Scorpius decides, and it's not as though he has many options at the moment. Best stick with these two, and if he meets someone better, then— well, he's sure they'd ditch him at the drop of a hat, so no need to get attached. He knows how the last war ended, knows that Malfoys don't have much goodwill with the general population at the moment, Hogwarts included. Being seen with the children of the Golden Trio can only help.

Yes, that's a perfectly rational reason. The words "lonely" or "scared" doesn't show up in it even once, which is a huge bonus. He'll be testing out his newfound excuse— that is, reason— for the first time tonight in a letter to his father. Meanwhile...

Scorpius schools his face, with just the slightest effort, into a nervous-but-eager smile and turns to face his new friends. "So," he says, interrupting Rose's tirade, "what do you know of the Sorting Ceremony?"


	2. Chapter 2

Rose doesn't care. She doesn't, she doesn't, she doesn't, she doesn't. So what if Albus and Scorpius are both Slytherins while she's in Gryffindor with only James, who refuses to even talk to his lame younger cousin, for company? So what if school only started a week ago and Albus and Scorpius already have so many inside jokes and references that Rose has trouble keeping up with their conversations? So what if Albus is louder and happier around Scorpius than he ever is with her?

Rose doesn't care. He's just her cousin, and it's not as if she ever thought they would remain as close at Hogwarts as they've always been. She's happy that he has new friends, a new best friend. She can make her own friends anyway. Friends who are girls, and friends who are Gryffindors while she's at it. Friends that her dad would approve of.

And if Albus and Scorpius don't seem to care, or even to notice, when Rose stops sitting with them at the newly installed inter-House table and walking with them to classes? Rose doesn't care. She doesn't, she doesn't, she doesn't.


	3. Chapter 3

"Mum! Dad!"

Albus had planned to greet his family in a composed and dignified manner befitting a Slytherin, but somehow that decision flies out of the window when he sees his parents and Lily through the crowd of people on the platform.

As he runs to hug his mother, Albus notes out of the corner of his eye Scorpius pausing slightly before approaching Draco and Astoria and disappearing from sight.

"What about me?" Lily asks. She's standing next to his father and wearing a small green hat, in what Albus assumes is a supporting gesture. "Didn't you miss me?"

"Not really," Albus tells her cheerfully, but at the expression on his dad's face quickly amends, "of course I did."

He hugs his dad and Lily, then pulls away to survey the area. He doesn't see Scorpius, which is too bad- he was looking forward to introducing him to the Potters. Or maybe not; Albus is still not sure how happy they are about his befriending a Malfoy.

Rose and her parents are nearby, but Hugo is nowhere to be seen due, according to Albus's parents recent letters, to a bout of dragonpox. Hermione and Ron wave at the Potter kids, and Albus looks away as Lily waves enthusiastically. He hopes that they'll leave soon so that he won't have to talk to Rose, who's been- well, he doesn't want to talk to Rose.

"Tell me everything!" Lily is practically squealing when Albus turns his attention back on her. "Is the food as good as Dad's? Are the ghosts scary? Is the Slytherin dungeon really under the lake? Can you see real mermaids?"

Albus rolls his eyes. "I'll tell you later," he says with no actual intention of doing so. Luckily, Lily's attention is diverted by the arrival of James, who is carrying both his and Albus's luggage and who seems to be suffering heavily for it.

The Potters make their way through the crowd and Albus tries not to notice the way people stare. Once outside, they pile into their car, which is vaguely disappointing because Albus much prefers the Floo. The sensation is dizzying in a better way than flying, for one, but mainly it means that there's a lower chance of their transport turning into a screaming row.

"Mum, it's not fair, I haven't got a wand, he's not allowed to hex me! Mum, tell him!"

"I wasn't goinig to do anything, Lily, you're such a crybaby!"

"He was, he was! He pointed his wand right at me and said spellwords, I heard him!"

Albus stays quiet. He's learned to tune out his family years ago- a necessity when you're half Weasley- and instead focuses on other things, such as the train ride here, which had been blissfully peaceful. Albus and Scorpius had sat with their dormmates, who had all been too high strung to make much conversation, and even Scorpius had at one point managed to keep his mouth shut for ten consecutive minutes.

Albus isn't the only nervous about his family's reaction to his new house, he knows; Russell Bagman is just as anxious about the holidays. Albus knows this although they hadn't discussed it, at least not in the way Albus is used to. Rather, there had been vague comments about Russell's father having been in Hufflepuff and unrestrained fidgeting as Christmas drew nearer. Scorpius had explained to Albus that this was the Slytherin equivalent of Russell coming out and saying that he thought that his father would disapprove of him and was terrified of the idea.

Slytherin confuses Albus to no end, if he's being honest, which he's not because he's in Slytherin. It's fun, though, in a way, and Albus is mostly glad to not be constantly submitted to blunt questioning the way it usually is around his family, none of whom seem to know the meaning of the word subtle.

They arrive sooner than Albus expected, and before he knows it they are pulling up the driveway of a plain brick house. Almost before Harry puts the car in park, Albus opens the door and makes a beeline for his room to unpack. So far, James hasn't said anything to him, about Slytherin or otherwise, but he knows it's only a matter of time and he wants to be prepared.

Albus's bedroom seems smaller than when he left. He surveys the room where he's lived since he was two years old, which is decked out in various shades of red and Quidditch patterns, and decides that it's high time to redecorate.

The Color Changing Charm is out of the question, as it's OWL level stuff and Albus isn't technically supposed to use magic over break. Luckily, he has, with a surprisng amount of foresight, stripped his bedsheets at Hogwarts, and now, with no small struggle, he manages to transform his bed into a small island of green amidst a sea of red.

Next are the curtains. Scorpius promised to send over green ones as soon as he could, but for now Albus can do without. He rips them down, tossing them into a wad at the door that he can take care of later. The Quidditch posters he for the most part leaves, aside from a couple that Albus has never liked much anyway but never had a reason to throw out.

This accomplished, Albus turns to his walls, but as he is contemplating what to do about those, there is a rap on the door. Before Albus can decide whether or not to let whoever-it-is in, Ginny Potter, who apparently doesn't understand the whole point of knocking, enters.

"Need any help unpacking?" she asks. "Your dad says that dinner's almost-"

Ginny's eyes widen as she takes in Albus's bedroom. He has to admit to himself that it looks a bit awkward, what with the green-and-red color scheme, but he plans to fix that soon, and anyway it matches the rest of the decorations that have been put up around the house.

"Huh," she says. "Any particular reason for the sudden Christmas spirit?"

Albus's mum is not nearly as funny as she thinks she is.

Albus shrugs, unsure of how to explain it, or whether he even wants to. "Well," he says, looking at his bed, "not really." When she raises her eyebrows at him, Albus sighs and goes on. "Only, I know James will tease me, and you and Dad- well, you were both Gryffindors and all, and Scorpius said that people can't attack you for things you're proud of. He's going to send me curtains," he feels the need to add. "Green ones."

Ginny gives him her Mother Look, the one that says that she knows a lot more than what he's telling her.

"Let's go eat," she says, giving the room one last glance as she opens the door, "and then I'll help you repaint the walls."


	4. Chapter 4

Rose's eyes hurt, her throat aches, and her head is starting to pound. She sits in an armchair in the Granger-Weasley sitting room and stares across the coffee table at her mother, who is somehow blinking far less than any normal person should be. The expression with which Hermione watches her daughter reminds the latter uncomfortably of the onre she uses while making a speech at the wizengamot or fielding off reporters and paparazzi.

"Mum..." Rose tries. Hermione just raises an eyebrow, and Rose sighs and slumps back in her seat.

Rose is sure that none of her friends' parents deal with their children like this, although of course most of her friends' parents are also not war heroes or Ministers of Magic. And Rose loves her mother, she really does, but sometimes it's hard not to question her parenting technique.

Hermione's policy (installed a few years ago, after Rose complained yet again about her meddling too much) is that if Rose wants to keep something a secret more than her mother wants to know what it is, then it's only fair for her to not interfere. This, however, requires a sort of battle of the wills to sort out what is greater this time: Hermione's curiosity or Rose's insistence on independence.

They're been sitting here for almost half an hour, and Rose is getting restless. She is, after all, eleven years old, and the rules of the contest (skewed as they are in Hermione's favor) include disallowing distractions of any sort, including books or even homework. It's just the two of them and the coffee table (which has two glasses of water on it of course, Hermione's not a monster).

"Fine!"

Rose breaks. "Albus doesn't like me anymore, I don't think. He and I met Scorpius on the train—I wrote you about that— but after that they were both Sorted into Slytherin, and I was put in Gryffindor. Which is fine, I love Gryffindor and all, of course." She takes a deep breath, envisioning her mum's perfectly cool, emotionless tone as she addresses the entire Wizarding public. "They still talked to me, but they weren't really... I didn't think they wanted me around, and when I stopped talking to them Albus didn't care. He hangs out with Scorpius all the time, which isn't even fair, because if it wasn't for me they'd never have been friends! And I still miss him, which is ridiculous because he clearly doesn't miss me, and it's not like I've not got other friends, but we've been friends since we were born, and he doesn't  _talk_  to me anymore."

Rose is horrified to find that her voice catches slightly, and she takes another steadying breath. "And now they're coming over for Christmas, and I'll have to talk to him."

Hermione frowns in that thoughtful way she's probably trademarked. "To be honest with you, I'm probably not the best person to give out advice about friends." She smiles slightly, and Rose is grateful that she doesn't tell the story of the troll again, because she's heard that one so many times she can recite it in her sleep. "I'd better go check on Hugo anyway, you know how your father is with Healing Charms. Why don't you make some tea and I'll send him down?"

Hermione departs, and Rose goes to make tea, because when her mum says things like that they're not suggestions as much as polite orders. Probably a side effect of being the Minister of Magic, Rose reflects (for not the first or last time) as she wishes that she could use magic to heat the water faster. It's probably lucky she can't, though, because she'd probably end up lighting the curtains on fire. She's only been doing magic for half a year, after all, and even though she's more advanced than everyone else in her class she's still a first-year.

The mugs are sitting on the table, letting off steam, when Ron comes down the stairs a few minutes later, looking sleep-deprived.

"Tea?" he says. "Oh, excellent." He sits down and sighs, wrapping his hands around the mug. "Hugo should be feeling better by tomorrow," he says.

"Oh." Rose has, in the the haze of preteen angst, completely forgotten about her brother's existence. "That's... good."

Ron smiles at her. "Mum told me you were having some boy trouble?"

"Dad! Not like  _that_!"

He laughs. "I know, I know. What did you want to ask me about?"

* * *

Albus looks nervous. The realization offers Rose profound relief, and she allows herself to relax, if only slightly.

The Potters put their coats away (they had, much to their children's chagrin, Apparated only part of the way and walked the last few blocks), and Harry joins Hermione in the kitchen as Ron drags Ginny off so that she can properly admire their Christmas tree.

James, Albus, and Lily are left to their own devices. Lily immediately bounces upstairs to say hi to Hugo, and James mutters something about making sure his little doesn't strangle the still-sick boy before following her. Leaving Albus to stand in the doorway and make what is an admittedly impressive effort to avoid Rose's eye.

"Wanna come to my room?" she asks. It comes out different than she expected, hopeful rather than commanding, but it's alright because the relief on Albus's face is obvious.

"Sure," he says, and they go upstairs.

"We should talk," Rose says as soon as the door is closed.

Albus nods. "Probably."

Rose slowly breathes out, mentally shuffling through her notes, and is for some reason surprised when Albus interrupts her.

"Oh, don't do that," he says.

"Do what?"

"That... thing where you're about to sound like you're giving a speech or something. I'm not the Wizengamot, you know."

He says it with a small smile, so Rose smiles back. "Never know when it really will be the Wizengamot, though," she says. "I wouldn't want to be caught unprepared."

"Unprepared? I can think of a lot of words to describe you, Rose, but that's not one of them."

"I do hope the rest are along the lines of 'talented, clever, powerful,' and the like."

"Oh, of course! What else could they possibly be?"

They grin at each other for a moment.

"I'd like it if you didn't ditch me for Scorpius next term," Rose says.

"Deal, if you promise to explain why you're mad at me next time."

"Deal."

There's a bit of comfortable silence.

"Have you seen our tree?" Rose asks. "It's even bigger than yours was last year."

They leave her room chatting, and both pretend not to notice the satisfied Looks the grownups send each other downstairs.


End file.
